


Sexual Tension and Burnt Soup: Cockblocking Harry Styles

by jacktheminatureslayer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU-Blind Date, All the time, Arsonist!Niall, Confused!Louis, Drug Dealer!Liam, Fruit ninja!Niall, Harry is confused by Louis' confusion, Humour, Juggler!Harry, Lots of sexual tension, Louis is hopelessly confused, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Zayn is obviously the only normal one, as usual, everybody's basically a cockblock, helpful!harry, phone sex operator!Niall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1234525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacktheminatureslayer/pseuds/jacktheminatureslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has perfectly reasonable excuses for missing his blind date five times, but when he meets an incredibly fit bloke in the soup aisle, he suddenly doesn't feel all that guilty anymore.</p><p>Or, AU where Harry's mediocre juggling skills don't (but sort of do) seduce Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexual Tension and Burnt Soup: Cockblocking Harry Styles

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was written for a [prompt](http://jacktheminatureslayer.tumblr.com/post/77518278765/hey-jack-how-are-you-ive-got-a-prompt-if-you-want#notes) and I kind of took it too far? Basically, it was only supposed to be a 1000 words. Oops.
> 
> It's supposed to be absolutely ridiculous.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Part one: First Dates and Drug Dealers**

The grocery store is not a place that Harry expected to be tonight. Actually, in all honesty, he wasn’t exactly positive where he’d be tonight, but a grocery store was not on the list of possibilities. He makes a mental note to strangle Niall later. If, of course, his cold hasn’t killed him off beforehand.

To clear things up, Harry is upset because he’s supposed to be on a date right now. It’s safe to say by his crowding around a million different varieties of chicken noodle soup that he isn’t on said date. He can’t bring himself to be too upset though, it was a blind date.

Actually, it was Zayn’s fifth attempt at setting him up with the same bloke for a date. Albeit, Harry had very good reasons for missing prior attempts:

1-Niall’s porn crashed Harry’s laptop and the information (including a very important essay) saved on said laptop.

2-Niall attempted “fruit ninja” with real fruit and knives.

3-Harry came home to find ten pounds of sugar poured onto the carpeted floor so that Niall could make a snow angel.

4-The curtains were set on fire by Niall to celebrate a football game gone wrong.

5-Niall is sick.

So, this week seems more reasonable than the other weeks. By the third excuse, even Zayn started to doubt Harry, but Zayn knows Niall and that, in itself, should be an excuse. All in all, Harry is left frustratingly staring at a can of soup because he doesn’t know the difference between light and normal chicken noodle soup. As far as he can tell, the “light” chicken noodle is more expensive despite it’s “less artificial flavouring” implications. Where’s the logic in that?

He’s five seconds away from throwing both cans onto the ground when someone interrupts his thoughts. “I can’t help but notice your internal struggle. Have those cans personally offended you?” the stranger asks.

Harry’s response is thrown away when he looks up and sees possibly the most attractive man to have ever set foot in the soup aisle. The bloke fidgets in his silence and quickly adds, “Sorry, I was just wondering if there was something wrong with them…? I mean--sorry, I’ve got a--erm--somebody who’s ill? And you’ve been glaring at those cans for a near five minutes. Oh god, I’ll go.” He flushes and turns on his heel.

Harry finally finds his voice and stops him with a, “Wait!”

He pauses and looks back. He looks like a kicked puppy. Well, if puppies could have piercing blue eyes, tousled brown hair, and cheekbones that would make Zayn run for cover. Harry’s biased though. He did grow up with Zayn.

Harry decides "to hell with it," and puts one of his cans in the stranger’s basket. “We’re doing an experiment,” he tells the bloke with small hands, but a surprisingly big responding smile.

“An experiment,” the stranger with heart stoppingly long eyelashes and crinkly eyes repeats, still smiling at Harry.

Harry grabs more cans of chicken noodle soup and separates them evenly between them. “Yes,” he tells him.

“An experiment involving chicken noodle soup.”

Harry just grunts a reply this time and continues organising the cans. The beautiful stranger laughs. “You do realise that I’m getting this soup for someone else, right? I mean, I was just going to grab the cheapest one. I haven’t even met the bloke before”

“You won’t be able to get out of this with logic,” Harry responds firmly and pulls his personal angel to the check-out queue.

“Get out of what, exactly,” the bloke asks. Harry realises that the man is wearing really nice clothing and he might have better plans than taste-testing soup.

When Harry doesn’t answer, the stranger pushes and adds, “Is this a date?”

Harry narrows his eyes in thought. “It would be if I knew your name,” he amends.

The bloke looks surprised, but gives in. “Louis.”

“Harry.”

“So Harry, is this what you normally do Friday nights? Glare at innocent canned goods until you trap some bystander into a date?” Louis asks lightly while picking at the hem of his shirt.

Harry answers with a quick, “Only the pretty ones.” and pays for their bundle.

Louis beams and follows him out of the store and to his car. Eventually Harry has to ask, “You didn’t have other plans tonight, right?”

Louis blinks at him in surprise. “I did, but they fell through last minute.”

Harry breathes out a breath of relief and nods. “Good. You mind following me to my place, then?” This is the first time that Harry’s really given Louis a choice to back away.

He doesn’t hesitate to nod. “Sure.” and they pack up Harry’s small car with the soup before going their separate ways to meet up at Harry’s.

As he’s driving to his flat (Louis following behind) Harry suddenly becomes anxious. The first few thoughts consist of: is Niall feeling dead enough to the world that their flat is clean for once? Does he have enough pots to make so much soup? Will Harry’s jumpers absolutely swallow Louis’s petite stature? Could Louis possibly be a serial killer? Will he let him at least get a snog in before murdering him? Does Harry have his priorities sorted out properly?

They pull up next to his building, Louis parking by Harry, and carry the bags of cans a few flights up to his flat. There’s a comfortable silence in the corridor leading to Harry’s flat when Harry casually asks, “Would you let me kill Niall before you kill me or will you assure me that you will take care of Niall after killing me?”

“What kind of experiment is this, exactly?” Louis asks, widening his eyes.

Oh, Harry thought it was obvious. “We’re taste-testing all the soup,” he explains.

“And then I’m murdering you and your boyfriend?” Louis asks, staring at the ground.

“Yes, me and my flatmate,” Harry corrects easily. “Would be weird to kill my nonexistent boyfriend after our first date. I’d save that for the fourth or fifth.”

“Just making sure our intentions are aligned before moving straight into homicide. It’s messy business, you know.”

Harry hums in response and unlocks his door. He walks into a surprisingly clean flat and frowns. “Looks like he’s already dead,” he pauses and then adds while walking into the kitchen, “No matter, less work for you.”

“Such a shame and I was planning such a glorious murder for the lad.” Louis follows him into the flat with his own load of cans.

Harry chuckles to himself and pulls out as many pots as he can find. Luckily Niall went through a cooking phase after watching thousands of Masterchef episodes. Louis seems to be fighting a look of utter confusion over his amusement. “And you’re just pulling these pots from where?” he asks.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to,” is Harry’s reply.

This seems to be enough for Louis because he just shrugs off his curiosity and sets to opening cans of soup with the can opener Harry handed him. “So...Harry. What’s a fine chap like yourself doing in the soup aisle of a grocery store on a Friday night?”

“Could ask you the same question.”

“Yes, but I already told you my answer. My plans fell through. Again. Figured I’d be a saint and feed an ill member of society.”

“Well, my plans also fell through. Again. Now, pass me a soup, will you?”

“I hardly doubt that your plans actually fell through. I mean…” he waves a hand in Harry’s direction and Harry turns his full attention to the bloke.

“What do you mean?”

Louis blushes. “Well, you’re not really hard on the eyes, Curly.”

“To clear this up, you mean plans as in...romantic expeditions, right?” Harry asks.

“Of course,” Louis answers.

Harry smiles. “Well okay, but my plans didn’t fall through because of my er,” he clears his throat, “excellent personality. Honestly, I have the worst flatmate in the history of flatmates. A real cockblock, he is. Besides, you’re exceptionally beautiful yourself.”

Louis ignores the last bit to Harry’s displeasure. “Is that why my job has shifted from official experimental partner to murderer? Your flatmate stole your date?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘shifted’ rather than an added bonus. You’re Louis, taste-tester extraordinaire and homicidal maniac. Welcome to my flat and please make yourself comfortable. But that’s partly correct, you’re murdering my flatmate because he’s the world’s worst cockblock and I’m counting down the seconds until he strolls in and does it again.”

“Bit melodramatic.”

Harry shrugs this comment off and places four pots of soup on four different burners. He starts up the stove top and pulls Louis to the frontroom. They settle on the sofa and flick through different stations on the tellie, settling on a show with plenty of explosions and screaming.

“So, Harry-with-a-personal-vendetta-against-canned-soup-and-a-cockblock-flatmate, tell me more about yourself.”

“I like bananas," Harry says after much deliberation. He feels like his love of fruit should be brought up early in relationships, just in case. Priorities and all that.

Louis snorts. “Guessed as much. I’m a fan of bananas myself.” He wiggles his eyebrows and winks.

Harry flushes. “No...erm, I mean that I like the fruit. I like all kinds of fruit.”

“Oh! So you like more than just bananas? That’s fine. Personally, I tend to stick to just bananas. Nothing against other fruits, I just...prefer bananas.”

Harry sputters, finally understanding the innuendo, and then coughs while Louis pats his back. “I mean, bananas are such lovely fruit, wouldn’t you agree?”

Harry nods. “A lot of nutrients, yes.” He plays along easily.

“Great texture,” Louis adds.

“Not to mention the taste.” Harry mimics an Italian chef kissing his fingers and that does it, both lads are hunched over in laughter.

Harry looks down after snorting up a lung to see Louis smiling at him. He flushes and turns his attention to the burning smell coming from the kitchen. “Oh!” he squeaks and jumps off the sofa.

He races to the kitchen to find four pots of darkened soup bubbling over. A harsh pungent smell overwhelming his nostrils. Louis comes in shortly and curses under his breath. They turn off the burners and stare at the mess. “So...do you want to try some soup?” Harry jokes.

Louis rolls his eyes. “I’ll take a raincheque.”

Harry supposes that the best way to deal with this situation is to dump the overcooked soup and heat up four more from the abundant amount they bought, but Harry isn’t really thinking logically. “What’s your opinion on drug dealing?” he asks.

Louis’ eyes widen. “Sorry?”

“Drug dealing, Louis. Keep up.” He shakes his head slowly.

“Being a participant or dealing?”

Harry bites and chews at his bottom lip in his contemplation. “Yes,” he says slowly.

“Sorry?” Louis repeats.

“Yes.” Harry nods his head.

Louis shuffles in his place and scratches the back of his neck. “Erm, okay?”

“Good,” Harry says firmly and grabs Louis’ arm.

He drags Louis to the lifts and down, pulling him to his car. “Sorry, but did I just agree to something?” Louis asks between tripping over himself to keep up and panting.

“More or less,” Harry confirms, ducking into his car and messing with the heater. Louis pulls into his own seat and slowly clicks his seatbelt into place.

“You…” he starts.

Harry looks up questioningly.

Louis huffs and looks out of the window. “You aren’t a serial killer, right?”

Harry blinks and then laughs. He starts up the car and speeds along the roads, whistling happily to himself while Louis mutters darkly out the window.

They arrive at a rundown pharmacy and drugstore that happens to also sell tacos. Harry gets out quickly and opens Louis’ passenger side door for him. He grins smugly to himself because, hey, he’s being a gentleman and his mother will probably send him home baked biscuits when he tells her.

“By drug dealer, you meant an _actual_ drug dealer type person with medicines?” Louis asks outloud as he’s lead into the small store.

Harry just gives him a confused look before a burly lad with a thick chest and shoulders and puffy pink lips calls at them. “Oi! Harry? Does Niall need more plasters? I thought we told him to stay away from knives and fruit.”

Harry pauses and replies, “No Liam, but I should get some more while we’re here. He’s gotten into extreme knitting.”

Liam nods, turning his lips down into a worried expression. Louis shuffles and apparently decides he needs to speak up. “Extreme knitting?” His nose crinkles up as his eyebrows shoot to his hairline.

Harry thinks that Louis’ cute. “You’re cute,” he tells him. He turns away from the shocked reaction and walks to Liam. After a few moments, Louis follows and they reach the curious lad together.

Liam glances silently between the two and then shakes his head. “Nope. Sorry, Hazza.”

Harry pouts.

Liam keeps shaking his head. “Not getting involved. There’s too much sexual tension here.”

Louis squawks and nearly falls to the ground. Harry easily reaches out and steadies him. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

“Look, I’m going to have clients come in. Horny customers that don’t need to deal with whatever…” he motions between the two, “this is.”

“Sexual tension?” Louis whispers to himself.

“It’s not my fault they’re horny,” Harry argues.

Liam shrugs. “Best to keep them happy.”

He’s getting desperate, so he leans in and blinks steadily while jutting his bottom lip. “Please Liam, we’ll stay away from the smelly ole’ potheads.”

“Sexual tension?” Louis says louder to himself.

Liam glares and then gives in with a huff, folding his arms across his chest and nodding at the employee’s only entrance. “Fine, but stay away from the paying druggies. I have tuition to pay off.”

Harry beams and smacks a loud kiss on Liam’s cheek. “Bless you,” he yells over his shoulder and yanks Louis through the doors.

Louis continues a whispered mantra of _sexualtensionsexualtensionsexualtension_ while Harry took to making them comfortable and entertained.

The employee backroom is a cemented looking place with shelves of boxes on one wall and desks filling in the opposite. If “warm and cosy” could be personified by a room, this one would be the exact opposite of that, but...it’s still Harry’s favourite place to be and he’s certain that Louis will love it too.

With a nod to himself, Harry pushes a ladder to one of the shelves and climbs to the second shelf from the top, pulling a few boxes and climbing back down. The fine material of athletic wrap fills the boxes and Harry removes all of the rolls. He stacks them on their sides and makes a pyramid of a thing in the middle of the room.

Now that the “comfort” part is taken care of, he needs to figure out the “entertainment” part of his plan. He glances around the room a second time with a frowny glare and groans. Drug stores with secret underground marijuana businesses are boring.

“Do you think you’d like juggling pill bottles?” Harry asks Louis.

This seems to pull Louis out of his trance. He turns and looks at Harry’s makeshift sofa-bed-thing and raises his eyebrows at Harry. “Okay, I’m lost. Care to explain what’s happening?”

“Simple, really. I’m planning to woo you with my juggling abilities.” Harry shrugs and stuffs his hands into his pockets, which doesn’t really work. He hasn’t been able to put his massive hands into his pockets since Nick challenged him to the “skinniest skinnies” competition two years ago. He’s winning, obviously.

Louis stares at him.

Harry smiles back.

“Fine, I’ll figure it out! Jesus, some people take the ‘mysterious’ trait too far,” Louis mutters and then collapses gracefully onto the pile.

Harry frowns for a split-second and then beams. He’s never been called mysterious before, but if that’s what Louis likes, he doesn’t care. Maybe he should search it on the internet later so as to best attract Louis when they have their inevitable second date. Hopefully something that involves tongues and mouths.

He moves forward, trips, and falls next to Louis and flushes before righting himself. Louis snickers a bit and then kicks Harry’s ankle. “You said something about juggling? Come on. I need to be properly courted.”

Harry feels his whole face lit up. He gets up and grabs a few bottles from the shelved walls. “Okay, now keep it together,” he warns his lounging date.

“Make me hot and bothered,” he demands with a wink.

Harry preps himself and positions his feet firmly on the ground. He squats a bit and then raises his hands up. With a few nods of his head, he begins throwing the bottles up and passing them from one hand to another. Niall went through a juggling phase and Harry’s learning how to juggle kept Niall away from moving on up to chainsaws.

Louis whistles in appreciation and Harry nearly fumbles. He’s got to stay focused on the bottles, not on the model laid out in front of him. Unfortunately, his mind starts to wander to things having to do with laying down with fit blokes and in a turn of events, he’s the one becoming hot and bothered. He tries to move a bit to ease the flow of blood to other parts of the body, but the movement staggers the bottles and they fall to the ground. So much for wooing with his newly acquired talent.

Louis still claps and cheers for him, so he doesn’t consider it too big of a loss as he kneels back next to his date. “That was good,” Louis tells him.

“I’m better with balls,” Harry explains.

Louis smiles and raises an eyebrow. “Better with balls?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, spherical objects are easier to maneuver.”

“I bet.”

The glint in Louis’ eyes makes Harry feel a bit uncomfortable, so he changes the subject. “So what do you do for fun?”

“Me? Oh I’m boring,” he waves off the question.

Harry frowns and punches his shoulder. Louis bounces back and cradles his injured shoulder, glaring at Harry. “What was that for?” he demands.

“That was a bollocks punch. Any time you say anything rubbish, I’m punching you. Hard.”

His date blinks back at him. “Okay…”

“What do you do for fun?” Harry repeats, holding his fist up as menacingly as he can muster.

Louis eyes it, but answers, “Footie, mostly. I tend to spend most of my day babysitting my younger sisters and it’s either that or ‘Princess Tea Party’.”

His eyes lit up at that and he drops his fist from the air. “‘Princess Tea Party’?” he repeats and tries to keep himself from bouncing in his spot. That actually sounds delightful.

Louis gets a pinched expression. “They make me wear my mum’s clothes and plaster make-up on my face. It’s horrible. You don’t know how painful it is to put some of that stuff on! Eyelash curlers look like a proper torturing device, mate.”

Harry shivers. Oh, he knows. He knows this all too well. “So your sisters? How many?”

“Four younger and two on the way. They’re all bloody charming, too. Could get away with murder and everything.”

“So it’s a family business?”

“Sorry?”

Harry tries not to pout at the forgotten inside joke. “Nothing. Do you play footie on a team?”

Louis nods. “I have in the past, yeah. Not so much anymore. Got to focus on schooling and a proper uni education.”

Harry wants to pick him up and put him in his pocket. He’s like this sexy-athletic-elf-thing of a person and Harry wants to keep him. And shag him, but mostly keep him.

“Do you do anything besides mediocre juggling?” Louis asks.

Groaning, Harry shoves his fist back on his shoulder and watches him recoil and hiss, “What was that one for?!”

“Being a wanker, obviously. Well, I’m in doing uni too. Just hanging about my friends and revising essays and stuff.”

“To be young and careless,” Louis remarks and manages to jump away from another one of Harry’s punches. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Just an older sister. She’s all ‘mature’ now, so I don’t see much of her,” he answers putting a mocking emphasis on mature. He loves Gemma, but she kind of left him to pursue her ambitions. There’s nothing wrong with that, but they are very close and it’s hard only being able to communicate through texts and emails. Same goes for his mum and step-father, Robin.

“Ah, cheer up, you’ve got me and you’ve got your juggling balls,” Louis states and slaps his back affectionately.

His hand lingers on Harry’s shoulder blade and they lock stares for a delicious amount of time. Harry’s insides begin to feel giddy and sloshy from the staring and Louis mouths something along the lines of ‘sexual tension’ as he leans up.

“Harry, Liam said that--oh, are you kissing someone?!” Niall’s voice makes them both jump back and cringe.

It takes all his willpower not to scream and stomp around like a child when Niall shuffles closer to them. A joint dangles from his fingertips and he takes a hit while staring down at them. “I wouldn’t kiss Hazza,” he tells Louis. “Can’t even whistle.”

Harry’s eyes widen in offense while Louis questions, “Whistle?”

“I got the mechanics of it down, I just can’t get the whistling aspect to happen,” Harry grumbles and folds his arms across his chest. Niall is definitely above ‘Dave the Donut Man’ on his grudge list now. “Besides we weren’t kissing,” he adds because it’s true and he wants his best mate’s pity.

Niall just laughs and settles on the floor in front of them. He observes them as he takes another hit of his joint. “Shit,” he curses looking between them.

“Are you smoking weed?” Louis asks.

“Of course. Why else would I be here?” Niall answers.

Harry kicks him. “Aren’t you supposed to be ill? Vomiting your stomach up?”

“There’s a lot of sexual tension here,” Niall states, ignoring Harry’s questions. “It’s giving me anxiety what with all the horniness I already feel,” he adds.

Louis groans.

Harry smiles, but kicks him harder. “Bugger off and use your sickenly intense immunity powers somewhere else.”

Niall’s mobile rings and he answers it quickly. “Talk to me,” he hums to the speaker and passes his joint to Louis. Louis stares at it in offense.

“I thought this was a drug store?” he asks Harry.

Harry’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “It is a drug store.”

Niall starts whimpering, “Oh yeah...daddy...mmm, you know how much I love that” in the background.

Louis growls and points at the joint in his hand. “No, like this is literally a _drug_ store for  _drugs_.”

“Yes and Liam is a drug dealer. I thought we already covered this?” Harry responds in a slow voice. Well, slower than he usually talks.

Louis nearly cuts him off in his struggle to say, “But he’s a drug dealer in a drug store!”

“Ahhh yeah daddy...harder, please…”

“What the hell is your mate doing?” Louis finally demands and glares at Niall’s moans.

Harry turns to his friend and answers Louis. “Good question. Niall, what are you doing?”

Niall covers his phone after making kissy noises and shrugs. “I’m a phone-sex operator.”

Harry turns back to Louis. “He’s a phone-sex operator.”

“I got that much, thanks.”

Niall grunts and moans in the silence. Louis shuffles up and stomps out of the room. Niall whispers, “Get in” to him as Harry scrambles to follow suit.

Liam looks up at them when they burst into the front of the store and frowns. “Did you make Niall anxious with your sexual tension?”

Louis grumbles to himself.

Harry ignores the question. “Did Niall sell his soul to the wizard of health?”

“Wizard of health…?” Louis repeats.

Liam answers, “No, Z went over to your flat and took care of him until he got an urge to strip dance. Not sure how that lead to the phone sex thing.” His cheeks redden at the mention of Zayn and Harry coos over him.

Louis asks, “Who’s Z?” but when no one answers he turns and leaves the store.

“Oh,” Liam says at his departure. “Why was he holding a joint?”

Harry shrugs. “Didn’t think he did drugs. Not a very financial wise habit to get into.”

“I’m not giving him a discount. I don’t care what’s going on. You two are bad for business.” Liam all but pouts. He’d probably give him a discount anyways.

“I’ll talk to him. Bye Li!”

Harry leaves the store to find Louis glaring at his car. He stumbles over, unlocks, and opens the passenger door for him. Louis mumbles a "thanks" and crawls in without so much as a look in Harry’s direction. This makes Harry’s stomach twist unhappily. He’s going to have to deal with this one way or another and it’s better to get it out the first date. Well. Probably.

As soon as he slides into the driver’s seat he locks the doors and turns to Louis. “We need to talk.”

“The fuck…?” Louis responds with a comically surprised look. Harry might have laughed at it, if this wasn’t a serious conversation.

“No Lou, you have to know that I support you emotionally and hope that, one day, I'll be able to support you physically.”

Louis just blinks at him.

“Physically as in sex, Lou. Keep up, please.”

His eyebrows shoot up again and Harry briefly wonders whether he should mention premature wrinkle lines. No, that intervention is for another date. Instead, he points to the joint still resting in Louis’ fingers. Louis look at it and drops it.

“I understand the need to relieve stress using illegal drugs. Really, I do and marijuana has been used medically and, to be honest, I’m glad you’re into this and not more damaging illegal drugs. The fact of the matter is that this is a very expensive habit.”

His date fish mouths at him before coughing. “Expensive habit…”

“Yes, why else do you think Liam sells weed?”

“Wait, there’s some big misunderstanding here--”

“Just...how about we get into yoga instead? Your arse would look amazing in yoga pants and I’m very flexible. It’s a perfectly reasonable alternative and I get a discount at the place,” Harry rambles.

When Louis just stares in shock and fright, Harry nods. “We’ll talk more about this later. Niall will have some words he’ll want to say too. We both care deeply about your well-being, Lou. Drug addiction is not a joke.”

“Just take me back to your flat,” Louis groans, holding his head in his hands.

Harry reaches over and takes one of his hands. “Hey, we’ll get through this together.”

They drive back to Harry’s flat and Louis all but yanks off his car door to get to his own car.

“See you on our second date!” Harry yells after him with a friendly wave.

Louis makes an unkind gesture, but pauses and waves back. He leaves while Harry plans what they’ll do next. Not just the mouth and tongue thing, Harry’s going to properly woo this one.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you do the [tumblr](http://jacktheminiatureslayer.tumblr.com/) thing? Next chapter will be their inevitable second date!


End file.
